


I'll Be Anything You Want (As Long As You Still Love Me)

by mydogfoundthechainsaw



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydogfoundthechainsaw/pseuds/mydogfoundthechainsaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To infiltrate a businessman, Steve has to go to a marriage camp. With Bucky as his husband. While Sam pretends to be their counselor. Which just leads to great situations, and eventually, Sam and Steve.</p><p>This is a work-in-progress that will hopefully be finished eventually. i lost my flashdrive and it had all this stuff on it. :(</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's All Downhill From Here

     “—Well maybe if you hadn’t invited that bitch of a cousin, that dinner would’ve been okay! Do you know how much fucking time I spent on that turkey? And then she came, with her stupid “traditional family” values and “I can’t eat what lesbians cook”. Goddamnit Sarah!”  
     Steve didn’t know why he had woken at specifically at this moment. In fact, part of him was hoping that it was a dream. This whole marriage counseling thing was not working out. Of all the missions he’d done, this was probably the worst. It was a combinations of reasons. This session was high on the list.  
Just as Sarah started responding to her wife’s angry rant, he looked over to Sam. Who was trying to unsuccessfully lead the group somewhere. This group was giving him a lot of trouble, and Steve almost felt bad for him. But this was the plan; Sam had agreed to be the counselor. Instead of the cook or butler or housekeeping. He wanted to deal with all these bitchy couples, for reasons unknown.  
     Sam saw him watching, probably with a stupid expression of annoyance and confusion, and smiled. It was unfair, really, what that smile did. So he looked down, with a smile and a blush. This must’ve woke Bucky or something because he felt a somewhat clammy hand crush his own. He looked over and tried to put on that same smile, but it wasn’t the same.  
    Which was the major reason this assignment sucked ass. Because he was pretending to be married to Bucky. Bucky, of all people. Bucky who’d he’d grown up with, went into the CIA with, and then spent months trying to find in Russia. It was beyond awkward. It was insane. But Fury thought it was the best solution. And he was probably right.  
     So he was here, at some expensive, overdone marriage retreat for same-sex couples, pretending to be in love with his best friend. Listening to this really angry, really short cop named Jessica berate Sarah for their rather exciting family drama. Except somehow, as he had been sitting here thinking, the discussion had turned nice and they were getting somewhere. Apparently, in some past life, Sam had been a counselor of some sort.  
     But as nice as it was that Sam was actually getting couples back together, he wasn’t supposed to be interested. He was supposed to be here to deal with Bucky’s infidelity issues. Stephen Cage—that’s who he was now. A rather good, rather wealthy doctor known for his skill and kindness who had come to the camp to figure out his problem with Bucky. Well not Bucky; rather, Jacob, the doctor’s handsome flirt of a husband who owned a bookstore which he used to find people to sleep with. It was a somewhat sad tale, really, and he still couldn’t believe he was in this situation.  
     He really should’ve gone with Natasha on her last mission. She had wanted him to come, be her backup with Clint, but he had wanted to spend time with Bucky. After losing him for several years to personal revenge against the Russian mob, Steve felt like he needed to be there, for support, for help, for another mission. They had always been partners, up until Bucky “died,” and finding him again was a godsend. Sam was all for the interaction. Even though he had been a great partner.  
    He hadn’t even known Sam was part of the department when they first met, which was probably why he liked the man so well. Because he had met Sam as a person, not another agent, and had liked—no loved—that person. And then he met Sam in the hallways of the department and was lost. But now he was pretending not to know Sam, all for the mission. It was a little more than hard.  
     But Fury thought it would work this way. And usually Fury was right. Except for the time he had found a cabal of spies within Fury’s organization. Yet Fury seemed to have moved on from that debacle. This mission was proof.  
     Bucky kept yanking at his hand, which was rather annoying. So he looked up, about to complain, when he realized all eyes were on him. “See what I’m telling you? He’s always like this. Lost in his own goddamn world. He was never like this when we were—“  
     “Can we not do this again?” Bucky held the part of the annoyed, defensive husband very well. He was a spy, after all. While Steve was the too forgiving, too nice chump. “I just…It’s not like I do it very often. I’ve got some self-control.”  
     “Really, Stephen? That was low, even for you. Почему я за тебя замуж? глупые довольно-мальчик врачи…”  
     Hearing Russian out of that mouth was still disorienting. But Bucky hadn’t spent four years lost in the heart of Russian underworld for nothing. “Could you not talk in Russian? You know I can’t understand.”  
     Why he was playing such a softie, he didn’t understand. This was not the way to get Bruce and Klark to like them. Maybe they’d like Bucky, but not him. “почему вы думаете, я могу это сделать? Look, I’m sorry, okay? I know you don’t go off the reservation very often, but when you do, it’s always at the worst time.”  
     Just enough sweet so that everyone forgot the sour. If Bucky wasn’t like his brother, he could understand how people fell in love with him. “Really? Like when, Jacob? When you were introducing me to yet another one of your ‘friends’ that I make a fool of myself in front of? Why should I care that one of your little sluts thinks I’m a freak? God only knows what you’ve told them!”  
     “That’s not—that’s not fair.” Bucky sounded really hurt this time. Actually hurt. He was going off the script, though. But there was only so nice a person could be. And he thought he saw a smile in Bruce’s eyes. “They don’t mean anything to me. And neither do I to them. You know that.”  
      “Oh, like that makes it so much better. God, Jakob. Do you really think I’m that stupid?”  
      Sam really needed to intervene there. But instead he was sitting there, staring at him with an indecipherable look on his face. He must’ve gotten the signal then, though, because he gave himself a light shake and reemerged, counselor mode activated. Or maybe it was just the people shifting in their seats, ready to escape. “Those of you who wish, go. I know the camp has lots of activities planned. Jakob and Stephen, I’d like you to stay after. We need to talk.”  
     Bucky still wouldn’t look at him. But he was getting along quite well with Klark, talking in rapid-fire Russian with smiles on their faces. “Maybe later, Mr. Summers. I’ve just gotten invited to a rather exciting pool party. Oh, and Stephen, don’t worry. I promise to be a good boy this time.”  
     The smile and tone he left with were so close to being goddamn real he felt cut inside. Normally, things like that, with Bucky, slid off of him. Yet after losing him for so long, he couldn’t figure out what was real and what was fake. “You still wanna talk then?”  
     Shit. It was Sam’s “I would love to help you” smile, the one that trapped marks and seduced women left and right. Probably some men too. It was fucking irresistible, he'd learned. But he smiled back and nodded. And out of the corner of his eye, as Bruce walked out, he thought he saw the man smile too.  
    “You okay? That seemed pretty real.”  
     Felt pretty real too. But he couldn’t say that. “Yeah. It’s just…it’s weird, having him back after all this time.”  
     Sam nodded. He still felt guilty that he had found his old partner when Riley would never do the same. “You getting anywhere? I can tell Bucky is, but you?”  
     “No.” As much as he tried to be good at espionage and secret identities, he could never fake feelings. It was why his partners had always been handpicked. He had to get along with the people on his team. Really, he shouldn’t even have been here. He was supposed to be in the FBI, or the SEALs, or something else, like that; he wasn’t supposed to be a spy, working the angles and the people, trying to find cracks in everything. He had been, for a little while, but then everything had gone to shit.  
     “Did I ever tell you that I really hate this mission?” Sam was staring out the window now, shoulders hunched over and head down. “If it wasn’t marriages, I think I could do it. I thought about being a counselor, you know. Before I got mixed up in this.”  
    “I can see why. You’re good at it.”  
     “Thanks. I just really wish…why did he have to…never mind. So work Bruce and Klark a little harder, okay? Don’t know how much more I can take.”  
     He almost wanted to ask Sam to finish his thought, find out what was so important to him. But he didn’t. Because part of him was afraid that he’d be disappointed by what he heard. Because part of him had already filled in Sam’s statement with the words he’d only dreamed of hearing, and he wasn’t sure how he’d react either way. He wasn’t sure which would be worse, to hear what he wanted, or what he feared. And he didn’t want to find out. Because he had a sinking feeling he was going to hear the latter.  
      So he came up to the window next to Sam, watching Bucky party with Klark and Bruce. It was quite and nice, and for a second, the crazy thing called his life stood still.


	2. Begin Again

One Week Ago  
     “…so Klark Ripley is a very powerful, very wealthy Russian. Although most of his company is stationed in the U.S., he’s got several interests in his homeland. One of whom is a terrorist organization. They want a new Russia.”  
     Fury paused then, fingers steepled, looking at the pair of them with an unreadable expression. “Which I would normally support. But they want to destroy us to do it. Or so we think. As far as we can tell, he keeps all of his plans on his tablet.”  
     “Why can’t someone just remotely hack into it?” Bucky sounded totally and completely done. He wasn’t sure if it was the dealing with Russia again thing, or the plan itself, or working for Fury after doing who knows what for so long.  
     “We’ve tried. Sent Romanoff in as a new personal assistant. It’s on a separate network, and we can’t connect to it.”  
     “You have to get onto it in person.” Which meant it would be hard. Especially if Nat had already tried. And failed.  
     “Yes. And before you say anything, Barnes, he keeps it with him at all times. All times. Romanoff tried several times to separate him from it, but didn’t have much leeway.”  
     “And somehow we’re better than her?”  
     “No.” Fury almost sounded like he was concealing a laugh. Which could’ve been true. Nat was the measure by which all other agents were measured against. In some aspects, she was better than him, but in this kind of work, he wasn’t. “Not in this kind of work. But you have a better opportunity. He’s going to a marriage retreat with his husband soon. Meaning he will be relaxed, oblivious. You need to get the tablet and mine it. I need everything.”  
    “Marriage retreat? Does that mean that—“  
    “You have to be married? Yes.”  
    “Shouldn’t one of the female—“  
    “Only for same-sex couples.” Fury smiled then. “And no, Rogers, you cannot be fake-married to Wilson. Since Bucky has spent…a fair amount of time in Russia, he’ll interact better.”  
     He felt his face flare red; why had Fury seemed to think that was what he wanted? And even if it was—which it might be—Fury needed to keep his mouth shut. “Why would I want to be fake-married to Steve anyway? Unless the other option is the marriage counselor. “  
    Bucky started making choking noises that he guessed were suppressing a laugh after Sam’s outburst. Fury also looked like he had a smile in his eye. But then he turned, and Sam was smiling at him, letting him know it was alright, and he looked down. As Nat said, he blushed way too easily for a spy. “Yes. Well that is the other option, Wilson. You’re backup, and if you can, you get the device. These two men are dangerous, so do not tip them off. Now your covers. Steve, you’re Stephen Cage…”  
     Stephen Cage, doctor, rather good, with his own practice and lots of money and a cheating husband. Married to Jakob Cage for a year, after dating for two. A younger sister, no other family. Sister was always gone. Didn’t want kids, but had a dog. Worked long hours, so was never home. Which was why James was cheating. Had been cheating, since they met. Gotten used to it, because a little of time with James was worth sharing him with people. Also a little too forgiving, in Steve’ opinion.  
    His husband, Jakob Cage. Owned a bookstore and a major flirt at that bookstore. Suave in every manner, and had lately started showing off his affairs. Believed his husband was a wimp who was constantly lost in his own world. Thought the retreat was stupid, and only went so that maybe Stephen would get out of his shell. Born in Russia, moved to America, and returned to Russia, where they met.  
      They weren’t the shittiest covers, but they certainly were in the top ten. Of course the first mission he ran with the recently retrieved Bucky had to be a married one. He’d never even done a fake relationship cover—Nat tried kissing him once to hide and said it was awful. And it wasn’t like he had a lot of relationship experience to fall back on. But he smiled and listened to the rest of Fury’s directions. There really wasn’t a lot to say about the mission. It was a simple one. Retrieve the man’s tablet and get all the information on it back to Fury. Don’t get caught, do whatever you have to to befriend the couple, just don’t blow your covers. Sam’s your backup, there for whatever you need. You’ve only got a week, so get cranking, boys.  
      They left the office in silence. He couldn’t think of something that would keep it from being awkward. But the quiet was letting him dwell on the fact that Fury thought he would work well with Sam. And that was unacceptable. So he slugged Bucky on the shoulder and wrapped his arm around him. “So, whaddya say, darling? Wanna go get some lunch? Sam?”  
      While Bucky wriggled uncomfortably under his arm, Sam gave him a smile with an edge of something he couldn’t decipher. Maybe anger, maybe confusion, maybe jealously. Hopefully jealousy. It couldn’t be jealously, though, because that would imply something that was…Steve shook his head and dragged Bucky and Sam to the nearest Chinese restaurant.  
     They spent the night drilling each other on their covers, till they knew their “history” better than their own names. As they did so, they found themselves slipping into the characters. He loved that feeling more than anything else, when he lost himself inside of someone else. When he found himself thinking of what Stephen Cage would do. And it wasn't that he doesn’t love himself, it was just nice to find someone else inside of you. Because sometimes being someone else helped him realize who he needed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so being in college means this will take for-fucking-ever to be updated. sorry


	3. Working My Way to the Top

After a few minutes of watching Bucky get uncomfortably close, even as his best friend, to the couple, Sam looked over at him. “You should probably go, man. Quicker they warm up to you, quicker we all get our asses out of here.”

  
“You’re not having fun in a camp full of gays?”

  
Sam bit his lower lip, and Steve wondered when he would figure out that action made him physically weak. “These are angry queers, man. Not fun ones, like me.”

  
It took a surprising amount of effort to keep his gaze focused on Bucky. Sam had never outright said anything, dropping hints about gay clubs and exes that were never gendered, but none of them really had, or had ever had, a significant love life. Steve’s consisted of one-night stands and an awkward friends-with-benefits relationship with a tech mongul, while Sam heckled him about his choices. “We can start a fun queers camp then,” he finally choked out.

  
Sam’s laugh was another thing that made him weak, especially when he earned it. They left the room on that note, falling in step with each other until they reached the door, where Steve branched off. Klark and Bucky were yelling in Russian, but smiling, while Bruce seemed to be taking a nap. At least the dancing had stopped — Steve didn’t feel like acting a jealous husband.

  
“You were talking to Mr. Trevor for quite a long time, Stephen,” Bruce said, without opening his eyes.

  
He tried to remember if the windows were see-through from the outside, but failed. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to talk to someone so impartial about all of this.”  
“Talking about your relationship to a man like Trevor seems a waste.” There was a hint of a smirk.

  
“What are you implying?” He tried to play it off as simple curiousity, but it came off as hard.

  
“My husband might be against such a mixing, but I can appreciate beauty. Go after him. It’ll keep Jakob in line.”

  
Steve had to force a neutral face, unclench his fists. Bucky’s voice popped into his head, yelling you don’t need to go after every asshole. “I think he’d lose his job for that.” Simpliest way o get out of it.

  
Bruce laughed and finally opened his eyes. “So that’s all that’s stopping you? I was beginning to worry you were a total pushover.”

  
They exchanged smiles, and Steve sat next to him, watching Bucky from under his eyes. He’d almost fallen asleep when Bucky nudged him. “We’ve got to head inside or we’ll miss the best food, babe.”

  
Babe was too weird coming from Bucky’s mouth, but he allowed himself to be pulled up into his grip. Bruce and Klark followed, but kept their conversation to themselves. Dinner, which was, as the previous day, an overdone affair that made him wonder at the waste, left him and Bucky surrounded by a group of lesbians, who’d dragged them over when they overheard him complaining about sketching at breakfast. Sam sat with some of the other counselors, smiling and laughing — being Sam — and he could feel Bucky’s taunts telepathically.

  
As soon as people started fading out of the room, Bucky dragged him out. When they were outside, far away from the building, he put his hands in his hair. “Do you think if I fucked Klark, he’d still have the tablet on him?”

  
“Bucky!” He crossed his arms, until the other man started laughing.

  
“He ain’t my type, don’t worry yourself Stevie. But we’re running out of time, and Klark is fucking attached at the hip to his tablet.”

  
“Pool party? We just need him to leave it somewhere, Sam can grab it, and we’ll all good.”

  
Bucky smiled, wicked and deadly, and Steve could remember all the times they’d gotten in trouble. “Skinny dipping in the forest. There’s a lake nearby and Klark would love it.”

  
“Tonight?” He really wanted to get it done, before reality set itself and he had no chance with Sam.

  
“Tomorrow. You need to get on their good side.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah it has been a literal forever since I updated this. at least it's its own universe, right/

**Author's Note:**

> I don't acutally know russian, so i used google translate. sorry.  
> um. so bucky says,  
> Why did I marry you ? Stupid pretty boy doctors  
> AND  
> Why do you think i do it?


End file.
